He’ll be hiring a few new guys soon. This would be the time to talk to him.”

“But it’s too late now. Doug has to remain at Hogue until the end of May.”

“Or not.” McKenna held her gaze. “I think you should hire a good attorney and let your friends here in Marietta help you.”

Taylor said nothing and McKenna reached across the table and tapped her arm.

“Are you listening?” McKenna asked.

Taylor looked up at her. “I am, but McKenna, you grew up here, everybody cares about you here. I’m not Marietta’s sweetheart. I’m a nobody here.”

“I can help you.”

“How?”

“I can go to Brock or Cormac or Troy—”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to beg for favors from the Sheenans. That’s wrong. They don’t know me—”

“You’re going to the ball with Troy!”

“I explained this already. I’m going with Troy because Jane forced us together.”

“Phooey. Open your eyes. Use your brain.” McKenna drummed her hand on the table. “Nobody forces Troy to do anything. Not even Trey could get Troy to do something Troy didn’t want to do. And Trey was persuasive, and stubborn, but Troy is strong. Troy doesn’t take crap from anyone, and he doesn’t play games. If he likes you, he likes you, and if he doesn’t, he avoids you. And if you’re going to the ball with him, it’s because he wanted to take you, and if he’s kissed you, it’s because he wanted to put his lips on your lips. Nobody made him.”

Taylor hung her head, embarrassed. She knew McKenna was looking at her but Taylor didn’t know what to say, or how to articulate her feelings. It was hard enough worrying about her brother and struggling to come to terms with how he’d been rejected by her parents and society, without her having to deal with rejection, too.

It was a challenge coming to terms with Doug’s depression, and supporting him through his disappointments without her feeling disappointed in herself.

Without her feeling disappointed in her dreams.

Better to not want too much or dream too big.

Better to keep one’s expectations small, and manageable.

Better to do everything yourself because you couldn’t always rely on others.

“Why are you so afraid to like Troy?” McKenna asked quietly.

Taylor pictured him—tall and so darkly handsome—in his long black wool coat and fitted cashmere sweater stepping from his big black Escalade. The man had a private jet. He lived in some outrageous mansion in the most affluent neighborhood in San Francisco. He lived in a world she didn’t know and didn’t understand and would never be part of. “He has so much.”

“Yes?”

“I have nothing. I rent a room in a house on Bramble and am lucky to be able to pay my bills each month, while he has a private jet. A jet. It’s embarrassing how different our circumstances are.”

“You’re not into material things. Even if you had the money, you wouldn’t spend it on fancy toys, but it’s also okay if he has toys. You don’t have to focus on the stuff, focus on him.